


broken from the start

by TheSpaceCoyote



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [9]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Hate Plague, Hurt No Comfort, Injured Hux, M/M, Mind Control, Minor Violence, Serious Injuries, Strangulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 23:51:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17887514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpaceCoyote/pseuds/TheSpaceCoyote
Summary: Ren's been stricken with an unknown affliction, yet it's Hux—and their burgeoning relationship—that will suffer the consequences.





	broken from the start

**Author's Note:**

> Oh this one's a bit of a doozy. Heed those warnings! This one doesn't end particularly happily, but I had to. Done for the "Hate Plague" prompt on the Bad Things Happen Bingo. 
> 
> If you feel uncomfortable about Kylo hurting Hux, even inadvertently, then give this one a pass. But I promise I'll have some proper comfort coming down the line soon!

Hux is still not entirely sure what’s happened.

The broken communication from one of the troopers sent alongside Ren indicated some kind of ambush and assault, but when the rescue team arrived upon the heavily forested planet they’d found no trace of potential enemies, either Resistance or native. Hux has already been debriefed on their initial investigation and now finds himself with far more questions than answers. Unfortunately, all the troopers had been dead on arrival, their armor cracked and burnt with blaster impacts and suspicious-looking lacerations. The only conclusion Hux can draw is a disturbing one—that he can’t even confirm or deny until the only surviving member of the excursion wakes up.

Ren lies motionless on the bed, arms rigid at his side and eyes tightly shut. The medics have already removed his robes to get at the blaster wound in his side, leaving his upper torso bared to the open air. The skin beneath the glisten of the bacta patch looks raw and bright pink, already on the mend. But a largely superficial wound is the least of Hux’s concerns.

Ren hasn’t roused since the rescue team found him amidst the corpses of the troopers and transported him back to the ship. He hadn’t even twitched when the medics stripped his clothing or dressed his wound. Considering Ren’s hair-trigger temper and touch aversion, it speaks to the severity of what’s happened to him that he stays so still and silent.

The medics had taken his blood and scanned his brain not long ago, and Hux knows it may be a moment before they can decipher what exactly might be wrong with Ren and prescribe a cure, _if_ anything shows up in the results. There’s little left for Hux to do but wait.

He could probably do his waiting somewhere else, now that he’s been briefed on Ren’s status and ensured the medics are working towards resolving his condition. There are always tasks that need to be done, yet Hux lingers at Ren’s bedside, the hum and chime of the machines monitoring his vitals a background to his thoughts.

It’s truly disquieting to see him like this, resting stiffly like some kind of ancient statue on a forgotten planet. Hux never thought he’d miss Ren’s volatility—but then again, there’d been _developments_ in their relationship recently. Nothing Hux would dare give a name or much weight to, but developments nonetheless.

He’s still unsure whether this newfound intimacy is some sort of ploy by Ren, to draw Hux into a false sense of security and bring him harm, but even his suspicions can’t stop the urge to tug off one glove and brush his fingers against Ren’s cheek—maybe in a vain hope it might elicit some kind of response, bring the unconscious man out of the depths of his own, stormy mind, but it earns him nothing except the slight kiss of warmth from beyond the material of his gloves. 

Hux’s still touching Ren’s face when the rapid pace of footsteps brings him out of his reverie, the curtain surrounding the bed abruptly pulled away.

“General, stay back, Lord Ren’s been—!“ The urgency in the medic’s voice takes him by surprise, but as Hux turns to address her a sudden crash and a loud, near animal _snarl_ snaps his attention back—moments before something dark and brutal smashes into him and knocks him to the floor.

* * *

The first thing Kylo becomes aware of is _fear._

The rest is all dark, swallowing him up and stealing his strength like a ceaseless, creeping void. He feels cold down to the bone, no substantial breath able to move in and out of his lungs. As if all matter around him has frozen in place, leaving him inert and utterly alone.

_Vulnerable_.

He can’t remember much of what led him here. He remembers thick trees, white-plated soldiers, the scent of something damp and sinister. All things that seem irrelevant now as he drifts listlessly in the dark.

There’s a pain in his side throbbing, radiating out from the single center towards the distal points of his body. He feels the spot and it’s hollow, a gaping hole opening him wide to the void, to the fear that creeps and leers over him like a specter, that touches his face as if trying to carve more gaps into his mind for it to leach through.

Kylo struggles, feeling chilling anxiety squirm into him through the hole in his stomach, trying to infect him like some sinister parasite. He can sense its movement, knows its trying to claw up into his heart, to make a nest for itself there and never leave, not until it eats him from the inside out.

_No._

Kylo jerks in place, pushing against the presence with a snarl.

_He won’t let himself become weak_.

Red suddenly blazes out of the dark, wrapping around Kylo like the flares of a violent sun. He grasps it, clenches it in his hands, feels it thrum through his body like the roaring plasma of his lightsaber, a weapon bent to his desires, his insecurities—his _fears_.

The presence lets out a harsh, inhuman nose in the face of Kylo’s rage, shrinking before it like paper consumed in the fire. It’s almost pathetic, but he doesn’t let him feel any pity. Kylo doesn’t care where it’s come from or what it is as he stalks towards it, hatred fueling the flurry of red around him.

All he knows is it’s trying to kill him, and he won’t allow it.

Kylo seizes the presence in his hands, setting it aflame as it shrieks, suffering beneath his fury. He presses down upon it, teeth gritted and heart pounding in belief that if he kills this wretched thing the gaping hole inside him will finally close, banishing the fear that threatens to consume him.

Everything is red—comforting, _powerful_ red.

But just as Kylo feels the presence start to weaken, a sudden pain stabs into his arm and he roars, lashing out and shoving the source of it away. The brilliant flares of hatred wane around him, heart beating faster as a new sensation fills his body from the prick in his flesh, forcing his mind to resurface as if it’s been submerged in the deep for too long.

Kylo inhales so rapidly that it lances in his chest, and suddenly the nightmare’s hold on him breaks.

A shrill, clinical beeping rings in his ears as the fervor fades from his eyes, blinding red abruptly replaced by the more muted, soft colors of the waking world.

But what Kylo sees does not comfort him.

As his vision settles back into place he finds Hux lying beneath him, hair disheveled and fanning out against the cold durasteel floor. An alarming shade of red pools throughout the pale skin of his face, even purpling in spots on his cheeks and around his gasping, swollen lips. His eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, streaked with burst capillaries at the edges and watery, like he’s been crying.

At first Kylo only stares, stunned, unable to grasp what’s happening. Then his eyes fall to find where his hands wrap tightly around Hux’s throat.

Horror clutches at Kylo’s stomach and he rears away from the general, nearly falling back against the floor. Hux chokes for breath with his sudden freedom, head jerking to the side as he spits pink froth on the floor. Kylo can see him tremble with unnatural pain, even with the thick gaberwool coat draped in folds about his fallen body.

His heart hammers in his ears, body numb as his surroundings finally start to sink in, but it’s difficult to care about the tipped bed beside him, or the unconscious body of a First Order medic tossed against the wall, or the empty stimshot hanging from his bicep. He can hear the heavy clomp of footsteps above the erratic beeping of disconnected machines, but nothing’s quite as loud as the hacking coughs and desperate wheezing falling from Hux’s lips as he struggles to sit himself up.

The evidence of Kylo’s hands cloaks the general’s neck in a swathe of red bruises, already deepening where his fingers had pressed in hardest. He can still feel Hux’s throat flutter and flex beneath his bare palms, imprinting on his own heartbeat forever as Kylo crushed the voice out of him, even as Hux fought, unable to throw his attacker off or beg him to stop—

Three long, ragged cuts across the back of Kylo’s right hand start to sting.

He leans forward, stretching his treacherous fingers towards the general, damp lips searching for any words at all that could possibly mend what he’s wrought. 

“Hux, please, I—“

A harsh noise interrupts him as the general tries to speak, only for more saliva and bloody froth to drip from his bruising lips. Unable to muster his voice, Hux jerks his head up and fixes Kylo with a wild, bitter glare from beneath the hair fallen over his forehead. The white of his left eye puddles with blood, circling the delicate green iris in a sea of scoured red. Hurt and hatred burn in Hux’s gaze as his body hunches in on itself, like that of a wounded animal. He keeps the distance between himself and Kylo until members of the medbay staff, disturbed by the scuffle, come to tend to him.

No one dares touch Kylo. They don’t even look in his direction for fear of suffering the same fate as they carry Hux away and leave him upon the floor, stricken hands trembling as the hollow inside Kylo yawns and threatens to swallow him whole.

**Author's Note:**

> ...Sorry about that. Oof. Don't kill me. 
> 
> Hit me up on [Tumblr](http://thethespacecoyote.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/heir_of_breath7/).


End file.
